The Simplicity of Life is a Lie
by Myrtle Turtle 1
Summary: All Erica Morgan expected of her last year of High School was boredom and paint stained hands. She didn't need Forks to throw up all its supernatural secrets on her. Maybe it was because she couldn't tell anyone. Being mute was a pain. (OC pairing.)
1. Chapter 1: The Canvas is Blank

Chapter One: 

Everything never made sense in Forks. It was something Erica was beginning to get used to thinking. All these thoughts stemmed from the two strange shirtless boys in La Push, not that she was complaining, to the self-isolated Cullen's. But, it seemed like she was the only one who actually thought that those behaviors were just a tad strange - and by a tad she means a whole gallon in the measuring system. Yet, we didn't bat an eye. Mainly, it was because were too afraid of them. Or enjoying the view - in certain cases. There was no denying the Cullen's weren't an ugly sight, and those shirtless men in winter were a nice way to warm up.

Maybe if they were ugly Erica would actually her minds drifting thoughts. But then again Erica had no voice to use.

Born to an older couple as a last thought when they realized Mrs. Morgan was approaching her forty-second birthday and the gray in her blonde hair was getting too much to ignore, when they realized a child would be one thing they'd like to try. She was born eight and a half months later with tuffs of blonde hair like her mother and eyes that would soon be hazel like her fathers. Her parents lived a blissful few months before realizing something was off with their dear child. Mr. Morgan, a man three years older than his wife with a bald head, thought the darling baby was just plain dumb when she wouldn't respond to them and would never cry, something her birthing doctor said was perfectly normal. Mrs. Morgan believed the child had inherited her own great uncles condition that was passed down randomly in their genes. A doctor with the last name of Kirk confirmed that Erica Lynn Morgan was born mute and would likely be for the rest of her life.

It didn't really affect Erica much, seeing as the lack of speaking had always been there and she didn't have any voice to miss. She did wish she could hear her voice, sometimes she would pretend she could. But she was content living without the ability to talk. Her mother, however, was devastated that she would never hear the voice of a seemingly perfect baby. She blamed everything and everyone, ranging from the four door car they owned and drove while she was pregnant to the doctor that confirmed Erica's existence. Erica's father didn't outwardly show his feelings on the subject, always remaining indifferent and placing the silent blame of Erica's condition on his wife. His personal indifference had been something his wife had loved, ironic that it ended up being the thing that she listed as a reason for divorcing the "unemotional fool."

The divorce also didn't affect Erica. It was also something she'd always known, that her father lived in Seattle and her mother lived in Washington. The living arrangement never bothered her in the slightest, she didn't know the feeling of having one household. She was familiar and content with knowing she had to go to Seattle on weekends and stay with her father and her vegan step-mother Lidia. The rest of her time was spent living with her mother and their dog Kirby - who, did have to travel with her to each home, and going to school.

When she was younger it was all homeschooling for her, her mother didn't believe that Erica could survive school on her own without someone holding her hand. Frankly, she had no hope that Erica could do anything independently. It was only when he father stepped in was Erica allowed to start ninth grade at the High School near them. The main reason her mother agreed, after a year of arguments, was because her father blurted out that she could "take the stupid dog that ate his ties" and keep the dog permanently to "help Erica adjust smoothly to school." Her father and Kirby never got along, mainly because the dog could reduce the man to screaming until Lidia got home and suggested Erica take a walk around the neighborhood. Erica, now that she looked back, did do a lot of walking in Seattle.

Which strayed her back to her current activity: twelfth grade P.E.

Yes, that little blossom of tiny stature and blonde hair was in her last year of school, which had officially began the day before.

Her feet, covered in old dingy yellow sneakers, walked slowly on the field. Her heels were sore and almost burning, something her calves decided to mimic. Sweat shined on her pale forehead and her skin was blotchy with uneven patches of red. Her hair was sticking where it ended to her jaw in an unpleasantly wet way. Despite the cold air, even though it was mid August but then again it was Forks, the ten minutes of running was already affecting her. She never was a very active person, despite almost four years of the same routine and her mothers own P.E classes. She didn't consider herself physically fit now that she thought about it. She wasn't completely out of shape, just a bit poofy. Her hair was sticking where it ended to her jaw in an unpleasantly wet way.

As the gym coach, a man with a intimidating height and no hair on his head, looked away, she took the opportunity to lean her sticky hands on her knees and exhale silent her, the sound of feet slapping against the field was heard. She was too exhausted to get up from her position, despite being sure it was their coach.

Who spoke wasn't the burly man she that taught this class.

"You alright Eri?" Amy Clear, or as Erica liked to say her "self titled stalker" asked in a high pitched voice, panting when she came to a stop in front of Erica.

Erica nodded her head, looking down at her knees that were speckled in fair knobby hairs then drifting her glance to the dead patch of grass under her dirty shoes. She lifted a clammy hand up that was clasped tightly in her friends own freckled and equally sweaty one.

"Aye! Morgan!"The coarse voice of their teacher spoke that time. "Stop piggy backing off of Clear and start running!"

The sympathy and pity her teachers and students had been showing for the mute girl ran out some time during junior year. Not that she minded, it was just this particular class that she'd like to have an excuse for not being the best in; she wasn't a big fan of being compared to a faster old lady Wilson that ran every day past the school. It was amusing, the pity she means, when a new student would treat her like a war worn person with three missing limbs. She could carry her own books and make mute jokes, she just had to write them on paper or let Amy interpret hand signals.

"Got it sir!" Amy shouted back with the gracefulness of a hog, throwing Erica's arm back at her and running off.

She faltered in step to look back at Erica with a swishing pony tail."See you in Art!"

* * *

Erica wasn't the great at many things. Especially in school, though she did have trouble in certain things - like speaking. She barely passed her history, maths was laughable, chemistry was a solid B, literature was okay, and P. E was self explanatory. Yet, when you left Erica with a canvas, something just clicked. She liked to joke that if she couldn't speak with a mouth she could paint it with a brush, nobody found it particularly funny.

When fifth period rolled around she was in her favorite place. Away from an over bearing mother, two adults who didn't want her in their Seattle home, a dog that was sadly one of the few people that understood her, and near the smell of paper. She wouldn't admit it, but the smell of paint was nice too, but that led to concerned glances.

All she had to do in that class was dribble some paint in a some what orderly arrangement. There was no questions concerning the periodic table, neither where there any besting of others. You couldn't exactly say your art style was better than anyone else's, it was all a matter of perspective and preference.

That wasn't to say Erica was actually good at art, in fact she was well aware she was lacking the gentle touch with a paint brush. But, she could express herself and her feelings didn't tend to be quite gentle themselves. It wasn't like she could yell at a pillow or let out any frustrations, to do that she had to aggressively tap her finger on the table until her mother understood she was upset. Sometimes she liked to breath out of her nose loudly too. But in art class, all Erica needed to do was stab her paint brush painfully into paper until she was calm enough to be trusted with a cheap canvas.

Today she was favoring yellow marker. A happy, bright, and uplifting shade that she used to draw smears in a pattern on her paper.

"Well isn't that, er, orderly?" Amy stated as she loudly sat down at a table shared between the two girls. She pulled out her own art supplies, a charcoal pencil and pad of paper, that she had gotten near the door.

_'Well, its hardly chaotic.'_ Erica wrote down in messy and small writing on an open notebook between the girls. It was her old fashioned way of communicating with others. It saved the school the trouble of hiring an interpreter to follow her around and more humane than forcing the faculty to learn sign language.

The girl beside her rolled her eyes, before examining the cover of a magazine with a penguin on it. She held it up along with one that had a picture of another animal.

"What do you think?" She asked, raising an eyebrow impatiently as Erica adding two more smears before looking up.

She took one glance before scribbling on word down and returning to her work. _'Penguin.' _

Her yellow was now joined with blue paint on top of it an keeping her constant attention.

Amy sighed next to her, dangling the pencil in her hand. "Well aren't you talkative today."

Erica gave her a pointed look. _'Ha ha ha. Did that take you a while to come up with?'_

"Yes, yes it did. In Freshman year I thought it would be insensitive."

For Amy Clear, her pity went away three months after knowing Erica.

It was one of the reasons why they were still friends.

* * *

The History class room was located near the parking lot, which meant the sounds of cars driving by and horns were all too common. The carpets and white wallpaper seemed to have the smell of exhaust soaked into their fibers. Sixteen students sat at eight double student desks, that for the most part were clean. A short and thin man with balding black hair and large brown eyes stood before them, rubbing his dirty wire rimmed glasses on the stomach of his checkered shirt.

"Alright students, lets crack open those history books and learn a thing!" He spoke with a loud hoarse voice.

Erica gave a dry look to the overly enthusiastic teacher in front of her. Her speaking notebook was open and pushed to the side to make room for the thick history book with a kiwi on the cover.

"Today we will be doing a paper, the _first _paper of the year!" The teacher, Mr. Doyle, was walking in front of his desk with large hand gestures. "Can anyone guess?"

Bored glaces where exchanged between Amy and Erica, the former adding an exaggerated gesture of vomiting. Other students glanced around neither raising a hand, prompting a disappointed sigh from Mr. Doyle.

"C'mon you guys! Wheres the enthusiasm?" He sighed and dropped the large smile at the students blank faces. Erica had to keep an amused smile away. "Alright, the group paper will be on the Confederate Army."

One word in that sentence prompted several hands to fly up into the air.

"Wait, group?" One student with dark red hair, Alicia Parks, asked after her question was selected.

"Well, more like partnership." Their teacher confirmed with a smile, pulling a sheet of paper from his desk. "And I have the groups paired here."

That prompted a few students to give an annoyed groan. Erica settled for sticking her tongue out at her pouting friend.

Mr. Doyle gave them each a glance before holding his hands up in mock surrender. "Hey, I'm the teacher- which means I get to have fun with this paper and it doesn't involve grading."

"Alright," He continued, leaning on the edge of his desk, "Alicia Parks and David Smith."

He continued down that list with several names.

"Erica Morgan and Jasper Hale, Felicity Jones and Mia Cooper..."

**A/N: This wasn't going to be an oc pairing but then I remembered the wonderfulness that is Jasper Whitlock. **

**Sorry if this offends or is annoying you. But, be assured that there will be no Alice bashing or what not. Alice is actually my favorite character. So, naturally, I made her relationship with Jasper to be nonexistent in this fic. She'll probably be given a different mate in place, however. **

**Disclaimer: Frankly I own nothing besides my brain and currently Amy Clear and Erica Morgan (and parents, Lidia, teachers, dog, etc...). To save time, and people from potential boredom, I will just simply make the statement that I own nothing besides OC's mentioned in this fanfiction. Twilight is not among my possessions.  
**


	2. Chapter 2: Plain Font

**A/N: I'm going to be honest, I didn't think anyone would actually want to read the first chapter, let alone review,favorite and follow. I thought you would hate my writing. I am going to take a moment to say thank you for continuing this far and not hating Erica. I can't explain how much it means to me. **

**Disclaimer: OC's : mine. Twilight: not mine. *insert dorky thumbs up and cheesy smile* **

Chapter Two:

Stunned was an understatement. Erica was frozen to the point where she wondered if her heart stopped beating. Her eyes were widen to the point of being laughable and if she were a cartoon her hair would be sticking straight up.

_'Jasper Hale and Erica Morgan?! What kind of joke is this?'_

Erica's already messy writing was now chicken scratch as she scribbled the words frantically and held them so the girl directly behind her could read it. A minute later, as their teacher was pairing up the last six people, a crumpled ball found its target in her blonde hair. She pulled it out, ignoring the snap of hair being taken with it, keeping her eyes on her teacher.

'_I really dont see y your complaining ;)' _Was the reply Amy had to offer. _  
_

Erica rolled her eyes, tapping a short nail into her desk. It was a tick she'd developed so her mother would know she was upset.

It wasn't like she had anything against the Cullen's, she really didn't know anything about them because nit seemed like no one did. But, that was the problem. How would she be able to tell if Jasper Hale wanted to work on this project calmly or strange her and leave her in an alley while walking off with their A+.

It was that paranoia that her mother and Erica shared.

Mr. Doyle had now finished pairing students, putting that piece of paper down on his dark desk and trading it for a blue whiteboard marker. In the top right corner of his board he wrote 'The Confederate Army' in bold and neat font. He underlined it and proceeded to write the paring down in smaller and more rushed looking font.

"Alright," He turned to them with a loud clap of his hands. "your project will be fairly easy. I just want you to research the men behind the war."

He held up his hands to stop any eye rolls or protests, "I already know about this war and so do you, at least you should, so now I want you to know these men."

A note hit Erica's hair, which she quickly fished out before Mr. Doyle could see.

"I want a quick little look into who they are." He smiled at them, "Mainly because who knows how hard it could be to look into a soldiers history."

Erica lowered her body, placing the note in her lap.

'_I wouldnt mind "researching" a solider' _

Her hazel eyes involuntarily rolled, she should have expected that comment- despite the innocent air Amy carried, she was the opposite of a prude. She leaned over her notebook.

_'I think he might.'_

After she lifted it up for Amy to see, she turned her head back to see Amy nonchalantly waving her hands in reply. That prompted another eye roll.

Mr. Doyle's brown shoes scuffed on the floor when he began walking up and down the isle between the desks. "I want you and your partners to work together for research."

He was now on the other side near the windows over looking the car park. The scent of car fumes was strong, especially since it was the last period of the day and any parents that picked up their child were there already. It made Erica almost happy her mother insisted bikes were the new way of transportation. She didn't want those fumes in her lungs longer than necessary. However, she wished she could stay on earth with the extra ten years her mother guaranteed without all the sweat involved with the bike riding ten minutes twice a day. Her mother was a strong believer in protecting the earth, something she and Lidia had in common.

Erica was still reeling from the fact she had to work on a paper with a Cullen. She didn't understand why they needed partners, the paper didn't seem difficult to complete without the assistance of others. Even with the fact that last years history grade was a C, Erica had faith she could do this paper alone.

Class continued on as it regularly does, Mr. Doyle had them do an impromptu quiz to remind their brains of the lessons they learned last year as Juniors. Erica wasn't called on to answer any thrown out questions- which tended to be a common occurrence in her classes. The pity for the silent girl was gone, but they rarely called upon her for answers. It was dull and unfair, in her opinion, but she couldn't exactly protest against it. When she wrote the tone of her words was lost on people. It was almost painful to see her sarcasm or humor lost on people. They thought she was upset whenever she made mute jokes or sarcastic when she wrote her laughter out.

She was just happy to have made it this far without aggressively mouthing curse words.

* * *

The walk home was long and wet. Though, unlike P.E, it wasn't sweat coating her skin. It was the rain dropping down on her. She assumed she looked like a drowned animal. She could feel her hair slicked down on her skin like a second skin, bits flying into her mouth and covering her eyes. Her yellow shoes were now dirtier than before, her walk home included trailing through a unpaved park. Her dark jeans were splattered at the bottom in random patterns of brown and the rain water made them look darker and uncomfortably tight. Her dark gray long sleeve shirt provided no warmth or aid in the rain.

It wasn't even a horrible rain, just a light downpour, but after walking an additional five minutes due to the rain she was ready to drop dead on the sidewalk.

She wished she had taken Mrs. Clears, Amy's mothers, offer to ride home in the Clears silver Toyota. But, her pride just wouldn't allow it. She'd taken this path home for four years, she could manage another day.

At least that's what she kept reminding herself.

Then she began chanting it in her head when her foot stepped into a water filled dip in the concrete. The squelching of one foot followed her all the way up the five steps to the blue door of her home.

Inside, their was one big room for their kitchen and living room. A hallway in the middle of the two led to two bedrooms and one bathroom shared between Heather , her mother, and Erica. Erica unlocked the door with the key she fished out of her unfairly dry backpack, tossing the gray thing on the floor near a brown couch, and plopping her feet across wood floors. She didn't want to look back to see the certain mess of puddles she knew she made.

"Erica Lynn!" Her mothers upset voice confirmed the mess.

Erica was quick to grab the small pad of paper on the counter, scribbling a quick apology. '_Sorry! It started raining during my walk home._'

Her mother sighed, walking into the kitchen and picking up a dish rag. Pointing a finger with the hand holding the rag, "You have to clean it up Missy."

Erica nodded in understanding,kicking her shoes off to prevent further messes and taking the suspiciously damp smelling rag so she could lean on her knees and soak the water.

Heather Morgan, who now preferred to go by her maiden name of Cailer, was admittedly a calm person. But when you dirtied her house or the environment she was scarier than anything Erica had seen. She had yet to find a scarier person. Her mother liked to coddle her mute and only child, keeping the girl as sheltered as she can. Erica had only been to one sleepover and never hosted any of her own. When she had to do projects they had to go to their home only. Erica wasn't sure how Jasper Hale would take that, he and the rest of his family seemed to not like association with others. Maybe he and Erica would bond over their similarities. He had short blonde hair, she had short lighter blonde hair, they were isolated from others most of the time.

Or maybe Erica needed to get her head out of the clouds and try and do the work before he could.

Without writing down what she was off to do, Erica tossed the rag on the counter and swooped down for her back pack. She waved goodbye to her bemused mother and walked down the carpeted hallway, making a sharp right into her room. Homework was lamely dumped onto her yellow blanketed bed, Erica following suit and depositing herself onto the surface. A pencil was haphazardly grabbed from her bag when she remembered its importance.

Her homework was as she expected, slightly difficult and somewhat gibberish. Art homework was her favorite, they were simply told to draw whatever came to mind. It was nice to have a teacher like Miss Taylor, someone who threw out A's and understood Erica without paper and pencil. She almost made her feel normal every now and again, as if Erica had actually spoken to her, especially when Miss Taylor knew how she was feeling and the need to express it like a kindergartner with his first paint set.

Once she had finished her history homework, doing the assignments in the order of which they were assigned, she stood up form the bed. Her positioned had changed seven times before she settled on her stomach. It felt nice to stretch her now stiff dry jean covered legs, though she could barely bend her knees. Two hours had gone by and she didn't feel like wasting, as she put it,anymore of it. Doing the paper herself was going to take some time and effort.

The internet was a nice place to start, she came to realize. It had all she needed at a few presses of the keyboard.

Erica was hunched over the computer desk in the living room, having relocated The electrical light coming from the monitor was coating her in an off white sheen. The current search had been a dead end with unrelated content. Admittedly, she was ready to give up and turn in for the night. Despite having only spent such little time on her efforts, she had to be honest and admit she couldn't do it on her own- at least in her present attention span was at its limit and her limbs felt stiff and sore from being in the same position and day clothes. Her hair was slicked back by a headband and her night shirt and shorts were begging to be worn. All in all, giving up sounded better than not working with Jasper Hale at the moment. She didn't know if she'd regret that decision or not, but she didn't care.

With a sigh she turned the computer off, giving it a dejected stare before leaving the computer behind her as she trailed back to her room.

* * *

The new school day had gone by with a blur.

In her maths class she had actually gotten the opportunity to answer a question, giving her a warm feeling. She did answer it wrong, but that didn't matter. In literature her poem wasn't that bad and not for the first time that class made her appreciate her muteness. P.E was another story, her cheeks were still red when art rolled around and her arms were to sore to sketch from the volleyball.

History began like normal.

The classroom smelled like old car fumes and Mr. Doyle was sweating through his shirt in the warmed air. Erica sat at her normal desk, one row away from the front and to the right. A boy named Dean that was in her art class last year sat next to her, flicking through his book. Erica's speaking notebook separated them in a way that was becoming routine for the new year. Her hair was falling in her face and she amused herself by blowing it away and letting it fall back down- just until all the students filled in.

Once the noise of students passing idle words to their friends, Erica opted to wave at Amy, Mr. Doyle stood up.

"Good afternoon class." Mr. Doyle greeted, just like he did each day and for each class he had.

The rest of the class continued routinely. It wasn't until the end did Erica notice anything different.

Rather, it wasn't until Mr. Doyle asked Erica to stay a few minutes after.

'_Am I in trouble Mr. Doyle?_' Erica tried to write in her neatest font.

Her teacher shook his bald head, "Not at all Erica. I just wanted to ask you if it was okay that Jasper ddin't work with you."

Her eyes blinked owlishly, before she came out of her stupor to scribble a reply. '_May I ask why he can't work with me?_'

"He's not going to be able to do any research with you so it's unfair to have both share the grade of ones work." Mr. Doyle explained, sitting down at his desk.

Erica nodded in fake understanding. Taking the following silence as a dismissal, Erica left.

She couldn't understand why Jasper Hale didn't- couldn't- work with her on this project. In truth, she was grateful she didn't have to get closer than necessary to a Cullen, but it did nothing to soothe the irritation. Was Erica just not good enough to work with the genius that is the Cullen name. It was a known fact that the Cullen family was smart, their father was the best doctor at Forks Hospital and his adopted children were straight A students. Sure Erica was no Cullen, but she managed to keep good enough grades.

She huffed a silent breath, and decided that Jasper Hale would regret not working with her once he saw her A+ paper.

* * *

Erica decided to take Mrs. Clears offer this time, enjoying the comfortable warmth of the car she was in. Her notebook was in her lap while Amy chattered on and on. The current topic was boys.

"So, mom, did you know Erica is gonna work with a Cullen boy?" Amy's mother was as big of a gossip as well.

Mrs. Clear looked back and gave both girls a wide smile, mimicked by Amy, as she almost cooed. "Oooooh, which one? Tall and blonde, tall and red, or shorter and strong lookin?"

Erica half grimaced and rolled her eyes at the pair, holding up her new words. '_Neither, he can't do the research so were doing separate papers._'

Amy furrowed her eyebrows, looking at Erica with the closest glance to pity Erica had received from the tall girl. "Wait, so you have to do the paper by your self?"

Erica nodded in confirmation.

"Well, Amy can do it with you sweetie!" Mrs. Clear volunteered her daughter with a chirpy voice.

Erica couldn't help the silent laughter that escaped her. It wasn't something she did often, since she thought she looked like a seal barking without actual laughter. But, whenever she was with her dearest friend it happened often. Amy rolled her blue eyes, though she nodded to confirm her assistance.

"But, you have to help with mine too!" She declared, pointing a finger at the blonde.

The girls were deposited at the Morgan house, Mrs. Clear speeding off down the road. Amy strode up to the house with a familiarity reserved for ones own home, even pulling out a key to the small house. Erica rolled her eyes, normal to the sight, and followed Amy inside.

Amy was already sitting at the computer desk, her backpack on the couch and shoes by the door. Erica followed suit and pulled up a dinning chair to the desk. Amy was already on a page with a list of soldiers names. Unlike Erica, Amy was exceedingly good at her classes and had better common sense- something Erica didn't use to get to the page Amy was on. The brunette was raptly scrolling down the page and reading the names, before stopping and moving the page up. Erica's head almost hurt from her eyes trying to read the list as it was moving, thankful once they stopped.

"Lets do this one, it's almost ironic." Erica shifted her eyes over the list trying to see the name Amy settled on, before finding it.

In plain font the name Jasper Whitlock stood out.

**A/N: Sorry for any mistakes, I rushed this one to be posted before dinner. **

**Thank you so much for the first review! ^~^ Would I be a bad person to ask for more? **


	3. Chapter 3: Papers

Chapter Three:

Jasper Whitlock. He did have a nice name, Erica had to admit. Not that she was going to be writing that Jasper Hale had a nice name. It was the Whitlock that made the whole thing. Whitlock- it almost sounded whimsical.

Turning her attention back to the task at hand, she strayed away from the silly thoughts.

The computer monitor hummed in the silence that both girls had created between the two while searching. Erica shifted her knees under her chin and rested her head.

Amy had already clicked the blue link under his name, eagerly reading the loading words on the page. It wasn't a very credible looking site, the font was plain and the background was a harsh blank white, the banner on the top could have been made with better quality by Erica herself. Amy didn't seem to mind it, especially with image that finished loading. Major Whitlock, Erica read, was the youngest Major in the confederate army. It only took him two years of service to earn that title. He was born in Texas in 1844 to a mother who died after the birth of his younger sister and a father who died one year before Jasper Whitlock enlisted in the Confederate Army. He was only seventeen at the time of his enlistment.

Erica's own hair was barely longer than his hair, which had a more golden shade of blonde. She couldn't tell what color his eyes were exactly, in the black and white photo, but they were dark. His skin was pale, but then again she didn't know what shade. He was also very handsome. So handsome that she might compare him to a Cullen, more specifically a certain Hale. It seemed they didn't only share names.

Amy seemed to be thinking along the same train of thoughts. "Holy mother of resurrection!"

Erica jumped away from the monitor, startled by her friends exclamation. She was quick to grab her notebook and write in her lap.

'_Is that your reasoning for the resemblance?_'

Amy looked at her as if Erica was dumb. "Well, yeah. How else would Jasper and, er, Jasper look alike?"

Erica didn't get any time to write again. "Maybe thats why he wouldn't work the paper with you! Maybe he knows he's an old soul!"

He knows something, Erica silently added, just what is it though.

'_I think that maybe its just a dumb coincidence. They don't look that much alike, Jasper Hale is sharper looking, Jasper Whitlock is softer._' More normal human, Erica thought and wrote.

Amy had a wicked grin, "So you think of the Cullens faces often?"

Erica swatted Amy. She didn't like the Cullens. Something about them just drew her in, and not in a good didn't settle well with the mute girl, something about their self isolation and similar attributions without any blood relation caused distrust in her. The Cullen family was confusing and, frankly, perfect. How could all of them share the same eyes, a light yellow, and pale skin. They were intimidating and Erica was scared of them. Or maybe it was the unknown they carried with them.

"Lets do the paper on him!" Amy squealed happily, opening a word document. "Especially since you like his look alike!"

Erica pushed her hands away from the mouse- refusing to cover the blush on her cheeks that could be seen in the glow of the monitor '_No, I want to do it on someone else._'

She ignored Amy's satisfied look, taking control of the mouse and going back to the list of names and clicking the first she saw, Private James Brown.

* * *

'James Brown was twenty four when he enlisted in the Confederate Army. Born and raised in Texas to a single mother named Delilah Brown with a twin sister named Lottie...'

Mr. Doyle read her paper for her, all four paragraphs of James Browns public life. Erica, for obvious reasons, couldn't do it herself. She opted for standing to the side of Mr. Doyle, keeping her arms knotted behind her and her head down. Mr. Doyle was the only teacher that actually made Erica stand up in front of class while her paper was read. It smelled stronger of car fumes, Erica couldn't help wonder if it was Mr. Doyle that smelled and not the classroom. She could see every on of her classmates faces from in between the hair strands covering her eyes. Amy was smiling widely, showing of four years of orthodontic treatments, with her bangs pinned back by a headband as blue as her eyes. Erica couldn't help the wonder her eyes took, all the way over to a certain boy- Jasper Hale. He was looking out of the window, disinterest just rolling of him in thick waves. She couldn't help the surge of anger. What did she ever do to earn such boredom from him.

She would have snorted if she could. It was ridiculous for her to think such things. Jasper Hale was, and would always be, a person she didn't care about.

But, if that were true, why did she blush when his eyes looked up at hers.

Erica Morgan was reduced to blushing when a boy, Jasper Hale no less, looked at her. Her warm cheeks faded with the anger she felt- at herself. Erica didn't need high school crushes, nor did she have one her mind screamed, so her face didn't need to portray it.

She watched with a twisted mouth as Jasper Hale raised an eyebrow at her.

She almost wanted to scream, until she noticed Amy was glancing at her like that as well. And so was their teacher.

"Ms. Morgan?" Mr. Doyle asked timidly, "We've been done with your paper for a few minutes now, would you like to go to your desk?"

She didn't know what true embarrassment was until that moment. The times when her mother coddled her, or when her father announced his marriage to someone thirteen years younger than him didn't compare to this one moment in class. She shuffled her feet slowly, keeping her burning face down. She could hear other students whispering and laughing once she had sat down. Her saving grace was the ringing bell.

* * *

The car parking lot smelled worse than history class and sounded worse. The cars grumbled coarsely and gasoline scents filled the air. Students laughter and loud voices echoed over the engines grinding noise. Erica's shoes clomped loudly as she fast paced her walk down them. She hadn't lifted her head up since class, afraid her embarrassment would still be streaked on her round face. She was thankful it didn't look too strange to have her hair thrown in front of her face like a shield defending a knight. In her case, the shield was protecting her from any looks people could give her. She didn't mind them, and she knew they talked about the mute girl, but she just didn't want to acknowledge them.

Amy was trotted down behind her, her small heels clicking against the mud and water streaked cement. Amy would let out small curse words when her hands slipped on the railing as she tried to catch up with the short girl. Erica didn't relent on her pace, only increasing it once she stepped on flat pavement. She ignored Amys protests and Mrs. Clears van, walking away from the two. She was too embarrassed to let anyone see her.

**A/N: Thank you soooo much for your reviews! I wasn't going to answer them hear originally, but then I decided to do it. Sorry for the long wait in chapters and responses. I'd also like to apologize for the short chapter.**

**perra95: Thank you! I love hearing people like my writing, I don't really have much confidence with it. ^~^**

**Guest: Thank you for the review, it feels reassuring to hear people don't think Erica's too Mary Sue. I do plan to turn her, in fact I sorta have the moment written out already in my head. :P**

**DontWaitUpForMe: Your review is very nice! Thank you! It bugged me that Jasper was just sorta thrown to the side, as well. I can't begin to say how nice it is to hear Erica is realistic. **

**Thank you to everyone who has pressed the follow/ favorite "buttons". **

**It sounds greedy, but reviews mean so much to me and I have no non awkward way to ask for more, so uh yeah. **


	4. Chapter 4: Blank Voice

Chapter Four:

It almost felt like a walk of shame,not one of embarrassment, and she was sure it looked like one. Her face felted flushed-despite the cool air- and her shoulders were hunched forward in a sad attempt to shield her face away from any passing cars. Her shoes scraped on the rough pavement of the parking lot, the scent of car exhaust unnerved her. Her father rarely drove around with Erica when she was younger and her mother didn't believe the use of one was necessary anymore. It had been one of the things she'd thrown herself into after the divorce- world safe habits. Owning a car or promoting the use by being in one was not eco-friendly. Her mother would ground her for weeks if she knew Lidia taught her how to drive and that Erica liked to hitch rides from Amy and her mother.

The people around her were loud, chattering endlessly and loitering for no reason. She didn't like all the extra noise- no, unnecessary. Maybe she wouldn't be so against it if she had more friends, ones who would wait for for her for an hour after final bell. Maybe she just didn't like it because she wasn't used to it, being home schooled didn't involve hordes of people.

She felt like they were talking about her, each time someone would laugh and it echoed on for an additional minute. Erica knew it was silly to think, but the nameless voice in her head always offered unneeded worries for her. Sometimes she pretended the voice was actually hers- it didn't really have a distinct sound, it was just there. It never really felt like hers, maybe when she was younger, but that feeling dissipated as she grew older. The lack of her own voice didn't bother her, why would it when she didn't have it before. She didn't mind it or feel jealous of others, it would feel stupid or petty to have such emotions. Its not like she really wanted anyones voice. She couldn't picture it.

'Hello there, don't mind me, tallyho!' She thought to herself, pushing past the people on the sidewalk. It was almost funny- like she was a ghost, with the way they couldn't hear her thoughts. 'Nice shoes, watch the perfume, I have gym class with you.'

They were nonessential thoughts and phrases that she found a surprising growth of amusement in. They drifted her mind away from history class and she hoped she didn't stray back.

She paused to sit on a bench, wanting to keep up her antics. After a quick look she noticed Amy was already gone, as well as half the cars. The Cullen's were still here, something she quickly ignored and scolded herself for noticing.

But, she couldn't help the peek back at them. Alice, a short girl in the year bellow Erica, was sitting on the hood of a car that Erica didn't even want to think about how much it cost. The girl just swung her feet back and forth so carelessly it made Erica envious. She could see the other younger Cullen, named Eddie or something, sitting inside the car. She couldn't see what he was doing and didn't really care. The others were still inside, the remaining three were also in Erica's year. It must have had something to do with their classes then.

Erica visibly shrugged her shoulders, she didn't care what the Cullen's did. She didn't even know why she was looking over at them.

Except she did. The paper research she had done had got her thinking, about a certain Jasper Hale. She always needed a reason for something, a flaw she admits to, but she couldn't even fathom one that logically made sense to her. How could someone from the Confederate Army look so similar to a boy at her school. The similarities didn't even end in facial features, the way Jasper Whitlocks hair waved and stopped matched Jasper Hales, they even shared the same blank, almost proud, expression. She'd even assume they were the same height and weight.

It drove her crazy. It didn't make sense to assume they were the same person, it wasn't possible.

* * *

Her mother wasn't home today. It didn't surprise Erica much. Heather Cailer was usually late walking home from the market in town. Her mother probably left on purpose, considering it was a Friday. The day her father and Lidia picked her up and kept her for the weekend. Erica's mother didn't like being in the company of the two, she said her parting words to Erica before school and had nothing she wanted to say to her daughters father and step mother.

Erica didn't expect to see them for another half an hour, taking her sweet time to eat her mothers vegan bread. It was the last time for the next couple of days that she would be able to. She loved her father, she even loved Lidia, but she didn't particularly like being so far away from her mom. It made her feel small, like she was seven again, missing her mother that way. It was understandable, wanting her mom with her when she felt so far away. Her mother was, and always would be, her best friend. Despite her coddling, Heather Cailer always held Erica's best interest at heart.

Her father was ten minutes late, based on his usual arrival time. Erica was happy to see Lidia hadn't convinced him to do the hair plugs or the diet. He didn't need either, his head was familiarly bald and body soft. Erica shared his build- not exactly skinny but soft enough to not see any bones or defined marks. Lidia was another story. Erica, once she got into the four door Honda, noticed Lidia was now a brunette, versus last weeks four month long stint as a red head. She truly loved her step mother, Lidia was always caring and dotting on her step daughter, always a constant that aided her heart ache from being away from her mother.

But, if Erica was honest, in any other life she didn't think she'd like Lidia. Her step mother was very fond of nail polish and having her hair done. During Erica's stays were the only times she ever experienced make up and anti-frizz gels. Heather never liked the stuff, so in turn Erica didn't own any of it. Lidia loved going to parties and following trends, once there was the grunge phase that Erica didn't really follow with considering she was quite young. Lidia could truly be shallow and gossip about other.

However, that didn't mean she didn't love Erica as much as any other biological mother could. Erica, in turn, had always loved Lidia. Ever since she was eight when her father married her.

* * *

The drive felt longer. As if someone stretched the roads out and increased the amount of traffic and red lights. Maybe it was because she was antsy to get there, to get away from Forks. What had happened in History wasn't forgotten, in fact her mind seemed to make it worse. Scenes of her standing up there for ten minutes and her being spotted looking at Jasper Hale ran through her head. She pictured herself even speaking to Jasper Hale about Jasper Whitlock, which unnerved her the most. The voice that spoke was like the one in her mind, blank with a lack of personality. It was weird to see her own small mouth moving along with the words. Honestly, even if it were possible, she didn't know if she wanted to speak.

She didn't want to hear that voice.

She was sometimes glad she couldn't voice these thoughts.

"You alright Eri?" Lidia was looking back over the shoulder of her seat, her tiny voice barely startling Erica out of her thoughts.

Erica nodded her head looking away, not feeling the need to sign back a reply. She could see Lidia's small look of dejection from the corner of her eye. She knew her father would scold her later, then Lidia would wave it off and they'd go get dinner like they always did on her first day of her stay.

"So, Erica, how was school." It was her fathers turn to make conversation. Lidia turned the radio down, positioning her body to look back again and flashing a white smile.

'_It was okay. I acted like a complete dork only once. But then again it's only the beginning of the year._' Lidia relayed everything that Erica signed to her father.

Lidia frowned in the way only she could, a downturn of her wide lips and barely and wrinkles marring her face. "I'm sure you weren't a dork."

Erica shook her head, lifting her arms up higher from her lap. '_I achieved definite dork-a-tude.__'_

Her stepmother gave her a small smile. "I was always thinking that back in school. It's all in your head sweetie."

Lidia happily changed the subject after Erica shrugged. "How about boys? You find one yet?"

Erica always answered with a solid no, so why she did what she signed she didn't know why. '_Yeah... his name is... Jasper Whitlock.' _

She wanted to curse any female pride she carried. She wanted to slap the stupid urge she felt to impress her step mother. But seeing the flash of happiness and girlish squeal from Lidia made her feel proud. She also felt an underlying pathetic feeling.

"A boy?!" Her fathers protective and almost warning tone made her feel normal.

"Shush honey," Lidia dismissed playfully, turning back to Erica. "So, Jasper, whats he like?"

Yeah, she felt normal.

'_He's tall.'_ That wasn't a lie. _'He doesn't even notice me._' Neither was that. _'He's handsome.'_ She wanted that to be a lie.

"He sounds perfect Erica!" Lidia's voice was maternal and excited, something that boosted Erica's proud and almost warm feeling.

She could see her father shake his bald head. "He sounds like a vague description."

Erica reveled in hearing her father dismiss her liking a boy, even if it was fake. Well, she did think Jasper _Whitlock_ was somewhat handsome. She blamed the uniform.

She could laugh at the expression Lidia gave, one that was mixed between light heart annoyance and amusement. "Your father just doesn't want this Jasper boy to steal you away. Now tell me more about him."

So Erica did. She told them about the Jasper Whitlock she from the picture. The one she would adamantly refuse to admit borrowed a bit from Jasper Hale in her recalling.

* * *

**A/N: I meant to have this chapter waaay sooner than today. Apologies dear readers.**

** Sirius-Black-SFan: Thank you for telling me. My research was very basic concerning Erica, originally she was going to be deaf but I decided against that because I thought someone else had done that. Her mother does know sign language, I just made Erica a very lazy person. ^~^ I would give her one of the apps, it would be way easier for her to communicate, but her mother doesn't believe in them. Just like cars and such. :P Thank you so much for the reveiw! It really helped! **

**DontWaitUpForMe: I plan to embarrass her as much as I can. ;) I love the irony in her liking one Jasper but not so much for other Jasper. Hopefully this update doesn't let you down, I'm not used to many holding my writing up to such standards. :)**

**DesolateDreamer: I know what you mean, some Jasper/ Oc fics are a bit far fetched. Hopefully mine won't join that list. ^~^ **

**Zeehana: Thank you so much! I really hope that I don't let ya'll down, I'm always worried I am with each, and soon to be, updates. **

**RebornRose1992: Thank you! (: **

**Don't forgot to review dearies, any opions and such help. See you, figuratively, next time. **


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